


Break Free

by giraffewrites



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternative to self harm, Coping Mechanisms, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Pre-Season/Series 03, but kinda vaguely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 08:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20150857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffewrites/pseuds/giraffewrites
Summary: In his last therapy session, Billy's therapist had introduced him to an alternative to self harm. Every time he gets the urge to do so, he's to instead write on his skin. Anything at all. If what he writes is negative about himself, he's to try and think of positives as well.The first half is easy, the second is not.Thankfully, Steve's there to step in.





	Break Free

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from I Want To Break Free by Queen

Billy’s been staring at his inner thigh for the last twenty minutes. His grip on the sharpie’s loosened since the last word appeared on his skin, standing out against the faded scars. Thoughts occupy his mind, though are the wrong kind for what he’s trying to do.

The black ink showcases all the negativity he has towards himself. That was the easy part of this. If writing down what you hate about yourself was an Olympic sport, he’d win gold every time. ‘Pathetic’ and ‘weak’ are the last two he wrote, sitting amongst the others.

The front door slams from downstairs and Billy jumps, his hand flying up to his chest with a sharp inhale. Footsteps come up the stairs, today accompanied by humming that’s butchering the tune of _I Want To Break Free._ Billy barely manages the miniscule smile on his face when Steve walks in.

“Hey.” Steve slides his hand into Billy’s hair, leaning down so their lips can meet.

Billy leans into the touch. “Hey.” He folds his legs up to his chest to make room for Steve. “How was work?”

“Same old.” Steve shrugs. “Someone tried using an expired coupon and kicked off because we wouldn’t let her use it,” his fingertips draw circles on Billy’s knees, “how was your day?”

“Neither here nor there.” Billy reaches out to take Steve’s hand, interlinking their fingers and resting his chin his knees. “Tried the exercise.”

“The exercise?”

Instead of verbally answering, Billy moves his legs to expose his inner thigh. Along with Steve he focuses on the words, not wanting to see his reaction.

“Where are the positives?”

Billy shrugs a shoulder. “Can’t think of any.”

Steve slips his hand out of Billy’s to stand up, running his knuckles against Billy’s cheek when he looks up at him. Moving around the bed, he goes over to his desk and rummages through the bottom drawer, letting out a victorious ‘aha!’ when he finds what he’s looking for. “Nancy left a pack here months back,” he explains, twiddling a blue Sharpie between his fingertips. “Something about different colour notes helping with studying.”

He sits back down again, this time between Billy’s legs. “Not that it helped,” he takes the cap off with his teeth so to press the nib against Billy’s thigh, “maths was a bastard. History even worse.”

Billy can’t see what Steve’s writing, his head in the way. But he can feel the pen against his skin, his ears listening to what Steve has to say.

“And back to the woman in work,” Steve starts a new word, “she said we ruined her kid’s day. Like c’mon, you’re the one picking vanilla over mint chocolate. _You’re_ ruining it.”

If Billy’s interest wasn’t occupied by what Steve’s writing, he’d have given a laugh.

They continue this until Steve’s done. Steve speaks and writes, and Billy wonders what’s being written against his skin, giving the odd indication that he’s still listening every so often.

“There.” Steve sits up straight, abandoning the sharpie in the small space between them. “Done.”

Whereas the black are confined to the space on his inner thigh, Steve’s blue scruffy writing is not only around them, but has extended down to Billy’s knee. The words that catch his attention most are ‘BRAVE’ and ‘SURVIVOR’. He turns his head away.

“There’s more I could’ve written,” Steve admits. “But I didn’t want you to get a cramp.”

Recognising the lump in his throat, Billy leans over to Steve and catches his lips. They shuffle closer, Steve cupping Billy’s face as Billy’s hands fist the hem of Steve’s top.

“Thank you,” Billy mutters after pulling away, eyes not meeting Steve’s.

“Like I said, I could’ve written more.” Steve moves his leg in order to pull Billy closer, having no objections as to when Billy’s face sits in the crook of his neck. Moving his arms to sit around Billy, Steve rests his head against Billy’s curls.

It’s a couple of minutes late when Billy asks, “Do you really mean them?”

Steve presses a kiss to Billy’s head, eyes closing. “Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> There are many different versions of this coping mechanism, but I personally find this one the most benefictial


End file.
